fateor me
by 004MOG
Summary: For Clay Terran, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Now that he's realized his feelings for Apollo, they're free to show each other just how much.


"Welcome back, buddy!"

Clay enveloped Apollo in a stiff bear hug, lifting him so his toes trailed the floor. He didn't care; Clay tightly enclosed in his arms was the only thing tethering him to Earth anyhow.

Two months.

Two months—far too long.

"All right Clay, you are definitely never allowed to go on leave for astronaut training again. Ever."

Clay set him down. (Apollo only wished he could have held on a little longer.) His gloved hand tapped his visor and he smirked. "You can't tell me what to do, _Dad_."

Apollo punched him on the shoulder. "Come on inside already." He couldn't keep the ear-splitting grin off his face. Clay was back. Clay was home.

Apollo helped Clay bring his luggage inside and unpack. They exchanged more best-friend banter, Apollo's heart racing. Seeing Clay again set all his systems on full-alarm.

Apollo'd had dinner keeping warm in the oven, so they ate together as soon as Clay got out of the shower. Apollo couldn't really focus on the casserole when Clay's hair was all wet, clinging to his face, and he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off his wonderfully sculpted shoulders and arms. Apollo wasn't a complete pervert, though. He listened to all of Clay's stories about GYAXA—practicing _I'm fine!_ s with Mr. Starbuck when a panic attack came on, the space research simulations, the crazy machinery Ms. Blackquill had invented for some very creative disaster drills—laughing and wincing at just the right moments, congratulating his friend on making it through the ordeal.

When Clay was done sharing his stories, their plates were empty. "How about you?" Clay asked, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his hands. "What cases have you been defending while I was gone?"

"None, actually," said Apollo.

"Oh...so you don't have any stories to tell me? That's a shame. I really wanted to hear about you." Clay smiled and the way his eyes crinkled was softer than Apollo remembered. He swallowed with difficulty. The answer to Clay's inquiry was kind of difficult to talk about when Clay was looking at him like that. All the same, they'd always shared these sort of things with each other and Clay was always supportive.

"Well, there's this coworker I might have a thing for."

A flicker of something crossed Clay's face, though he smiled on. "Oh? Are you going to ask him out?"

"Her," Apollo corrected. "And, I don't really know for sure? We're just kind of...it's weird." He thought about Athena giggling, poking him on the nose, saying she was too young to fall in love. "We talked about trying actually dating, but we didn't want to risk getting feelings tangled up with work. I can't say for sure if I'm falling for her." Every time he thought about how nice her smile was, he shut the feeling down. "The sex though, that's a no-brainer." He couldn't help the little grin tugging the corner of his mouth. "It's amazing."

Clay's posture went rigid. It was subtle, but nothing escaped Apollo's eyes. "You're sleeping together?"

"Um...is there something wrong, Clay?" Apollo's tales of his sex life had always been met with congratulations from Clay—not tension.

Clay shrugged. "Didn't realize you'd gotten lucky with her. Nice going, man." He rose up to take his dish to the sink. "Hope it works out."

Clay's fake-ass smile couldn't hide the furrowing of his eyebrows. He'd tried to turn away so Apollo couldn't see, but he'd given himself away. Badly.

Apollo sighed. "Clay. Your lying skills went _really_ rusty while you were gone."

Clay groaned, and dropped his dish in the sink so hard Apollo was pretty sure he broke it. "D'ya have to be this way, Apollo?"

Apollo rubbed the back of his neck. "It's kind of my gimmick, yeah."

"Maybe, I don't know, stop gimmicking until I get settled back in?"

"I will stop when _you_ stop making space puns," Apollo deadpanned.

Clay laughed, and that eased some of the tension. He took his seat at the table again.

"Two months away from home was a long time," he began.

Then he didn't say anything at all. "...And?" Apollo prodded.

"That's the longest we've ever been apart, y'know? Since the day we met."

Apollo beamed. Clay was getting sentimental on him. _God_ , he was amazing. "We've been best friends for so long."

"Is that ever gonna change? Nothing's gonna mess that up?"

"What, us being friends?"

"Yeah." Clay was steepling his hands again, pressing his lips into his fingers. Apollo's head began to swim.

"Look, Clay, I mean, obviously you're the most important person in the world to me. Okay?" Clay wouldn't meet his gaze. "I mean that," he added for emphasis.

"Then I hope what I'm about to say won't be too awkward."

Apollo didn't _dare_ entertain the hope that wanted to climb out of the pit of his stomach. There would be another explanation. Clay was moving out. Clay had a gambling addiction and was in serious debt. Clay had a terrible disease and was about to di- _what is wrong with you Justice calm down YOU'RE FINE_

"While I was gone, I thought about you a lot."

 _Yeah, I thought about you, too, Clay._

"I missed you."

 _Missed you too._

Clay was still avoiding looking at Apollo, directing his words to the table instead. "If this is going to make things super weird, then, _please_ , let's get this over with as quickly as we can so we can go back to normal."

Apollo's heart was beating so ferociously. This must be some kind of medical condition. His arteries would burst, and he'd have to go to the hospital, and he'd never find out what was wrong with Clay.

Clay's face was visibly red now, and he buried his head in his hands. "God, I've never been so nervous in my life." His words were muffled. He cleared his throat, rubbed his eyes, and looked straight at his best friend, fists clenched on the table. "Um, Apollo. You know a little bit more about this than I do." Apollo watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "What do you do when you...like a guy?"

Apollo's stomach dropped, past his hips, past his feet, so far he didn't think he could ever be put together properly again. He rose slowly out of his chair, heart still pumping hard enough he felt his pulse beat in his fingertips.

Was this really, truly happening?

"Um...when a guy likes a guy." He walked to Clay's side of the table, and gently enclosed his hands over Clay's fists. "He...wants to be close to him." Apollo leaned over, pressing his forehead against Clay's. Apollo tentatively rubbed circles with his thumbs over Clay's wrists, and Clay gradually unclenched his hands and entwined them with Apollo's.

Apollo closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Clay's skin touching his, Clay's shampoo scent filling his nostrils.

"So you do something like this, then," murmured Clay.

"Yes," breathed Apollo.

"Can I..." Clay's voice was tiny. "Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

There was a huge lump in Apollo's throat. He couldn't speak. He squeezed Clay's hands instead.

Clay tilted his head, and with a hesitant fragility that shattered Apollo's heart into a million tiny pieces, placed his lips upon Apollo's.

The second hand of the clock on the wall clicked only three times, but Apollo's first kiss with Clay was much longer than a few seconds. Time was relative in astrophysics, was it not? The sweet languor of this moment was worth a lifetime.

Clay released his lips, one slow, gentle kiss, and Apollo wasted no time going back for a second.

He kissed Clay's mouth, Clay's chin, Clay's nose—pressure and pull of lips on skin telling the story of years of affection and wanting—Clay's eyebrows, Clay's cheek—trailing his hands up Clay's arms and framing them to hold Clay's face—Clay's jaw, Clay's forehead, Clay's mouth again. He pulled Clay's face down against his chest, where his heart beat, running his fingers through Clay's damp hair.

"So...you seem pretty okay with this," mumbled Clay.

Apollo laughed, an exclamation halfway between a chortle and a sob. The action had forced a tear down his cheek, which he was glad Clay couldn't see. He still remembered Dhurke telling him that boys don't cry.

Then again. Dhurke had proven just how reliable his word was. Clay, on the other hand, was here; he had always been here, and he would never leave.

Apollo let his tear roll down into Clay's hair.

"I am more than okay," said Apollo softly. He couldn't believe that Clay would even question it. "I'm fine, even."

Clay giggled against Apollo's chest, causing his heart to swell. "This is a pretty awesome homecoming present." Clay stiffened suddenly. "Y-your girlfriend though..."

Apollo, who had momentarily panicked, relaxed and withdrew his hands from Clay's hair. "C'mon," he said, taking Clay by the hand. He led them to the couch, the two of them cozily seating side-by-side on the small piece of furniture, the dirty dishes forgotten. He didn't let go of Clay's hand, and twisted around to grab his other.

"Athena and I are coworkers, and friends with benefits. Nothing more." Clay squirmed a bit in his seat, but Apollo continued. "Second," he said, and got a little nervous at what he was about to admit. "If I'd known I had any chance at all with you, I'd never-"

"Wait, are you saying you liked me back then?" Clay interrupted. "For how long are we talking, here?"

"Just a second, Clay, I'm trying to explain why you shouldn't be worried that I've always seen other people all these years, because the only reason I bothered-"

"Years? _And you never told me!_ "

Apollo scowled, and his hair spikes hung in front of his face. "Clay. The entire time I've known you, you spent it acting _very, very straight_."

Clay blushed furiously, his hands fidgeting in Apollo's. "I don't know what to say. You're the first and only guy I've ever seen that way." He grinned, and it beautifully complemented the redness of his cheeks. "I'm gay for nobody but you, Apollo. You should feel special!"

"Clay!" Apollo admonished reflexively. But, come to mention it, there really was nothing more special than the boy you'd loved since you were fifteen returning your feelings. He took advantage of Clay's laughter to steal a kiss.

Clay took his turn to explore Apollo's arms and face with his hands, and Apollo melted into the touch. Clay broke the kiss, and Apollo allowed him to, soaking up the way Clay's eyes shone with wonder as he examined and touched Apollo's hands, forearms, shoulders, throat, clavicle, jawline.

"I've thought about doing this nearly every day for the last two months."

Apollo glowed with delight. "Remember how I said no more astronaut training for you? I take it back. Astronaut training is the best thing ever."

No, Clay fisting his hair and kissing him was the best thing ever.

Or maybe it was Clay picking him up bridal-style and carrying him to his room.

Did Clay want to move that fast? Whatever Clay wanted, that was fine with Apollo. He'd give all of himself tonight or he'd wait a hundred years. Clay's pace was his pace, too.

Clay dropped him on the Buzz Lightyear bedspread, then jumped on top of him, causing the two to nearly bounce off the edge. Apollo was ready for more kisses, but Clay attacked his abdomen with tickles instead. Apollo shrieked and giggled, kicking and squirming underneath Clay so fiercely that this time they really did tumble off the bed. Clay let out a dry _oof_ when Apollo's entire weight fell on top of his ribs.

"You kind of deserved that," said Apollo.

"Worth it," wheezed Clay, and hugged Apollo around the middle.

It was one of the best moments of Apollo's life, nestled on top of his best friend now lover, head resting on his broad shoulders, enveloped in his powerful arms, feeling the landscape of his toned chest and stomach under him.

"You're breaking up with your fuck buddy, yeah?"

"There's no one to break up _with_. We were prepared to stop sleeping together at any time."

"You _are_ stopping, right?"

Apollo grumbled.

"Man, learn to take a joke sometimes? You really are adorable." He pressed a kiss to the top of Apollo's head.

Apollo felt another rush of excitement. Clay Terran, sexiest man alive, thought he, Apollo Justice, was attractive.

"So, you liked me for a long time, huh?" asked Clay.

There it was again, another opening. _Might as well get it over with._ Apollo straightened up over Clay, weight on his hands. _Point blank. Let's do this! Apollo Justice is completely fine!_

"Clay, I love you. And I've felt that way since we were fifteen."

Apollo's face and neck heated intensely at the confession. Clay's expression was introspective. He looked to the side. "That...makes tons of sense, actually. If I'd paid more attention, if I'd've known myself better, I might have liked you back sooner." He brought his eyes back up to Apollo's. "I'm sorry, bud. Do you forgive me?"

Why did Clay even ask? Apollo would walk to the ends of the earth and back barefoot for Clay. Forgiveness was beyond tacit. It was something he would always, always give.

Apollo didn't answer, he just kissed him.

They kissed until Apollo's arms gave out and Clay complained that the floorboards were digging into his back, so they stood up and brushed themselves off.

"What's that sparkle in your eye?" asked Clay.

Apollo grinned sheepishly. "I had an idea, but I don't know how you'd feel about it."

"If it's your idea, I'll bet it's _spectacular_."

This was the kind of thing that Clay always said to Apollo before their relationship involved holding hands and kissing, but the new development made the endorsement a little more substantial.

"Remember when we were kids, and we'd have sleepovers-"

"Oh my God, _yes_!" The hug that Clay gave Apollo launched his feet six whole inches in the air this time. "I love you, Apollo!"

Apollo quietly mused on just what kind of _I love you_ that had been as they dismantled Apollo's bed frame, moved aside Clay's nightstand, carried the mattress across the hall, and reassembled Apollo's bed flush next to Clay's.

Clay flicked on his star projector lamp, and pulled Apollo onto the side-by-side bed with him. They watched the constellation patterns rotate on the ceiling, barely visible because Clay had left the overhead light on. It was just like they used to do as kids, before they grew out of essentially sleeping in the same bed, except they were holding hands this time.

"It's still kind of early, and I'm not sleeping in my work clothes," Apollo remarked. "Or with onion breath," he added.

"So let's get ready for bed, then," said Clay.

Apollo didn't shut the door to his room when he changed into his pajamas, instead leaving it ajar. It didn't feel right to have it closed anymore, but wide open wasn't exactly a fit, either. He grew embarrassed imagining Clay's hands loosening his tie instead of his own. That used to be just a fantasy, but now he could make it come true someday. Maybe soon, even.

Apollo had to wait his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face in the single bathroom, an inconvenience he hadn't dealt with for two months and yet was beyond pleased to have back in his life.

Clay poked fun at Apollo for wearing socks to bed when the weather hadn't even begun to chill yet, and Apollo made a jab at Clay for not wearing real pajamas.

"But I'm already dressed for the gym tomorrow morning," said Clay.

 _Laziness isn't a virtue,_ Apollo should have said, but instead he blurted, "Can I come?"

"What, you want to work out, too?"

"Er...no," said Apollo, his ears burning crimson.

"Then why..." Clay's face lit up with realization, then morphed into a sly grin. "You devil, you!"

"This is so embarrassing," Apollo muttered, palming his face. Any guy but Clay, he'd have made the suggestion he come watch him lift weights a smooth, flirtatious one. With Clay, his best friend since grade school, he couldn't channel that particular skill. How mortifying.

"Yes, you can come," said Clay, looking all too pleased with himself. "You like these?" He flexed a bicep.

"Obviously!" said Apollo, much louder than he meant to. Clay laughed and pulled him close, and for the second time that night Apollo had his face buried in Clay's well-built shoulders.

"I wouldn't mind watching you, either," Clay said, shooting a thrill up Apollo's spine. There it was again, Clay stating he found him attractive.

Some very choice innuendo came to Apollo's mind, ready to slide out of his lips, but he held it back. Clay wasn't one of the guys at the bar or on Grindr. They could talk about sex when Clay was ready to. Apollo was just glad that if Clay was only going to fall for one guy, out of all the guys in the world, he'd picked _him_.

He held Clay as tightly as he could.

It was still early when they climbed into bed, so they propped up the pillows and watched a movie on Clay's phone. It was a short, funny animated film they'd watched a lot as kids, and sitting side-by-side laughing with Clay in the dark was just as good as he'd remembered it. Even better, now, because their legs were a little entwined and Apollo had one arm draped over Clay's waist and Clay's head was on his shoulder.

When the movie was over, they laid on their sides, holding each other, watching the stars slowly turn on the ceiling.

Apollo's eyelids started to droop. "Are you sure you're not a dream?"

"You tell me," said Clay. "Do dreams do cheesy things like this?" He kissed Apollo's cheek, then cupped his chin to turn his head and kiss him on the mouth.

"I don't know," slurred Apollo. "I want to stay asleep forever. If you are a dream."

Clay stroked Apollo's cheek. "I love you, Apollo."

Apollo's head lolled onto the pillow. "Love as in, in love?"

"Definitely," said Clay. "I have you here and I know for sure, now."

"I've loved you forever, Clay," Apollo mumbled. "It's about time you returned the favor."

"Cheeky!"

" _You're_ the one rubbing my cheek." It was getting really hard to form words.

"You have such nice cheeks, my cute little Apollo."

Apollo smiled. He was glad Clay thought of Apollo as _his_. "And you have a nice ass," said Apollo, his filter switched off as he drifted into sleep.

Clay's barking laughter didn't stir Apollo. His voice was so soothing. Apollo couldn't make out the words, but it was so pleasant just to hear Clay's doting speech as he lost consciousness.

His dreams of Clay that night weren't as good as the real thing.


End file.
